Nineteen Years later
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: You didn't really think Molly would be able to kill Bellatrix, did you?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: As I read the end of DH, all I could think was "how did Molly manage to kill a witch as talented as Bellatrix?". So… here's my answer. I beg you, review. This story is destined for much editing. My thanks to Helena Bonham Carter for wearing such a cool necklace in the movies…

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own HP, and no money is being made

)O(

His scar had not pained him for 19 years. All was well.

For the moment.

'Idiot!' Bellatrix shouted. She picked up a vase and hurled it across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

'_Idiot_ housewives, and their _pathetic_ excuse for magic! Call me bitch, will you, you pitiful…' she trailed off, into a long string of mingled spells, profanity, and general abuse.

'Are you all right in there?' someone asked with a tap on her door. 'Only I thought I heard something–'

'Go away!' Bellatrix screamed at the interrupter. How she missed living in a house, where you could order out people you did not want.

'Keep talking that way and I'll have the landlord throw you out!' he threatened.

Bellatrix squeezed her hands into fists, shaking with fury. Keeping a low profile was not her strength. If she had her way, the sound of a vase breaking would be the least of that fool's concerns. He would be more worried about the sound of his fingers breaking, one by one, crushed beneath her boot… the cruciatus curse, her specialty… his own screaming, and at last, the two words that would end his life…

The thought of torturing a deserving muggle pleased her, and for a moment, she actually started for the door, fully intending to disregard her task and the related need not to call attention to herself.

But then she caught herself.

'I'm sorry,' she lied, in the sweetest voice she could muster. 'I dropped something, and was upset.'

She could almost hear his shrug as he ambled away. He didn't care in any case. He probably wouldn't have cared enough to go to the landlord, but there was no use taking chances.

Once Bellatrix was sure that he had left, she sat on the narrow bed, and drew her knees up to her chest. Her shoes left marks upon the bedspread, but she was far too preoccupied to care about the state of the rather disgusting room that these muggles had given her. She had always suspected muggles of being scarcely above animals, but she had not realized that they would put paying guests in accommodations that wouldn't suit a pig.

Anger rose in her throat again. What would the Dark Lord have said, seeing her, Bellatrix, reduced to tears of fury in a muggle room? Her, a Black, a Lestrange, his follower, his confidant, his…

It had been a mistake to think of the Dark Lord. His face, strange and beautiful, floated in front of her eyes, and the anger turned to misery. He _could_ see her, she was sure, and he was disappointed.

'I am trying, my Lord,' she whispered. 'I will honour your memory, I swear it. But, please understand, I have to wait.'

Of course, that spinster Molly Weasley, firing spells at random, blind with anger had not even close to hurt her. Bellatrix wasn't even sure what spell she had been hit with, only that she had lost all ability to use her limbs, and fallen to the floor, limp and – she conceded – looking quite dead to someone across the room and fighting three people at the same time. She understood. She was not bitter about the Dark Lord's inability to tell that she was still alive. In fact, she had been flattered to hear him scream when she fell. Only then, that Potter boy, the half-blood brat…

_Stop, stop, stop!_ She wasn't going to think about it. It only made the pain worse.

Nineteen years, Bellatrix had stayed quiet, skulking about London, renting muggle flats under a variety of stolen names, while she searched for the spell she wanted.

And so it had gone on for nineteen long years.

Now, after all this time, she was finally done.

The combined power of dozens of libraries, and hundreds of spell books – most of them confused for hoaxes by muggles – had finally resulted in the creation of a spell far more advanced and delicate than the ritual that Wormtail had used to bring the Dark Lord back to life.

She, Bellatrix, would revive her master, and she would do it far better than Wormtail had done.

Which was why she was back in London, and renting a squalid flat near King's Cross Station.

She had checked in under the name Bella, and her maiden name Black; having decided that enough time had elapsed that no one would see it as a coincidence. There was no special reason, only that she adored how obtuse people – muggles and wizards alike – were. She, who had once been the most hunted woman alive, could live in the city of her birth, under her childhood name, and still, she was unseen. She was right under their noses, and still they didn't see her. Why? Because they had forgotten.

Not for long.

She had chosen the flat for its proximity to King's Cross Station, thinking that nothing else mattered, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that it would have been wiser to choose one further from that so important destination, but with neighbors who were more tolerant of her occasional fits of rage.

Bellatrix let her legs relax out before her, and rested her head against the grimy headboard. It did not matter. After that very night, she would have no more reason to stay in that muggle dung heap than she would have to use a name not her own. By dawn, everything would be right again.

She had not eaten or slept for seven days, and had drunk only water. It was a cleansing, so that she would be free of earthly impurities when she cast the spell.

Of course, it had had the side effect of making Bellatrix near delirious with exhaustion and hunger, but through strength of will she had not known she was capable of, she had made it through the first three days. After that, her body had adjusted in some way, and she no longer felt either hungry or tired. By contrast, she had not felt so alert, so _alive_ since the Dark Lord…

She stood, to stop herself from drifting off, and once more checked that the last horcrux was safe. It was tucked at the bottom of a purse she had stolen from an unsuspecting muggle, and wrapped it a shred of tissue paper.

It was a gift from him, a silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of a crow's skull. Holding it to her ear, she could hear the tiny heartbeat, and could sense the shred of the Dark Lord's soul within.

When the Dark Lord had realized that Albus Dumbledore knew of his horcruxs, he had dispensed with his idea of a seven-part soul. More important to have as many pieces as possible. So he made one, and gave it the ultimate protection: Bellatrix's loyalty. A horcrux that no one else could possibly know about, an item that could be worn by Bellatrix without anyone thinking it strange or out of place, that would be kept on her person constantly… that would be a safe horcrux. She had worn it every day since the Dark Lord had given it to her, and doubted anyone could even noticed it.

She pressed her lips to it, and hurriedly shoved it back into her bag.

'Tonight, my Lord, tonight,' she said under her breath. 'Tonight.'


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Endless thanks to all reviewers. I honestly couldn't have done it without you. Reviews still deeply appreciated.

)O(

When the sky darkened, Bellatrix left her flat, and slipped through the London streets to King's Cross Station.

It was crucial that she perform the spell there. In a whispered conversation, heady with serotonin, the Dark Lord had confided to her that he had dreamt that he died and was forced to remain forever. She hadn't said anything to that (she never did when the Dark Lord spoke to her of dreams or emotions. It was too delicate a field), but some lucid bit of her sex-addled brain had squirreled the information away. And when the spell books told her that the spell should be done in a place important to the soul, she had remembered, and chosen King's Cross.

There were still trickles of muggles getting on and off trains, but none of them noticed the dark lady creeping into the station and sitting against the wall.

Bellatrix waited patiently as they hurried past. She waited until a man, smelling strongly of alcohol, stumbled across her path. He wouldn't be expected home. No one would miss him. With a casual flick of her wand, she sent him down in a heap.

A little giggle of joy couldn't be stopped from burbling up. The hunger-induced delirium was settling in again, and Bellatrix felt light-headed and giddy.

_Stop it! _she ordered herself. _Focus!_

She dragged his stunned form over to the edge of the platform. He groaned slightly, and Bellatrix clutched her wand, prepared to stun again. But he just snored and his head flopped to the side before falling silent. Forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply, she pulled the necklace from her purse, and clutched it, heart fluttering in her throat. Mentally apologizing to the Dark Lord for not giving him a better soul to feed on, she stooped and set the pendant on the drunk's forehead. She stood up straight, swaying momentarily as the blood rushed from her head, and raised her wand. But before Bellatrix had a chance to speak the incantation, the pendant jumped.

She lowered her wand and stared, perplexed, at the necklace. It was stationary. Bellatrix lifted her wand again, and opened her mouth to begin the incantation, but scarcely had the first sound left her mouth when the necklace jumped again, so high into the air that it landed on the platform floor by the drunkard's head. Bellatrix stooped to place it on his head again, but before she reached it, it jumped back onto his head.

Eyeing the object suspiciously, Bellatrix cleared her throat and raised her wand again and began.

'_Vi Merlini_,' she began, her voice rising into a tremulously high pitch, '_viribus magica anima dimittam hunc in obiecto virtutis_.' She directed her wand at the necklace, which was vibrating violently, but was not making any more of an attempt to get away from the drunk.

'_Anima dimittam a falso obiectum_,' she continued, closing in and touching her wand to the necklace. The shaking object writhed. '_in _t- _transferatum_…' Something like a shock shot up her arm, and she jumped. '_proxima_…' her whole body was shaking, and she could scarcely keep her wand steady. But she had to, it was Bellatrix's one aim to complete this spell, to bring the Dark Lord into corporal form, 'v- viv-' her head was swimming, and her eyes had clouded. She was blind, and all she knew was that she had to keep her wand in place, and force out the words, 'viv- _vivens_…'

The wand clattered from her hand, and her body jerked backwards, twitching as violently as anyone ever had under her cruciatus curse. Her head cracked against the platform, and Bellatrix lost consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's notes: Apologies for obscene overuse of ellipses. Review, please.

)O(

'_Bellatrix… Bellatrix…'_

The voice was that of the Dark Lord, soft and intimate, in her ear.

'My Lord,' she whispered, ecstatic. She had succeeded; the Dark Lord was alive once more. The soul of the drunkard had fed him, and he was corporeal. And, as she had been the one to revive him, he would surely reward her. For a moment, she allowed herself to dwell on just _how_ he would reward…

'_Bellatrix… open your eyes…_'

Bellatrix lifted one hand to her forehead, and reached the other before her, blindly searching for his hand. With a seductive flutter of the eyelashes, she opened her eyes, prepared to meet his eyes and experience his gratitude.

She didn't see him.

'My Lord. Where… my Lord?'

'_Bellatrix… do you see a little problem here_?'

'Where are you?' She sat up, and stars popped in front of here eyes. Clutching her spinning head, she looked around. The drunk was flat on the floor some yards away, and there was no one else around.

'_Yes… that was indeed the problem to which I was referring_.'

'What? I don't… are you still in the horcrux, then?'

'_No…_'

'Well then… what? Where are you?'

'_Guess_.'

'I don't…'

She trailed off helplessly. There was a pause, and then the Dark Lord's voice spoke again, mildly amused.

'_This corset you're wearing really is desperately uncomfortable… why on Earth would subject yourself to it?_'

'I'm used to… wait.'

'_Just keep going, Bella; you'll work it out eventually_.'

Bellatrix sat back against the wall, trying to wrap her head around what was going on. 'You don't mean… you aren't inside my body, are you?'

'_Most adept deduction, Bella_.'

'Oh Hell.' Her vision clouded over and she rubbed her temples. 'What went wrong?'

'_I was going to ask you that very question._'

'I don't know. I did exactly what the books said.' She hesitated, and then, thinking it better not to lie, 'But… I passed out partway through.'

'_You freed the soul in the horcrux, but fainted before you could do the part of the spell that would give it independent form, and thus it attached itself to the nearest living thing._'

'Something… my Lord, I am so sorry. I think it's the hunger…'

'_That wouldn't surprise me. You're practically starving_.'

'That was part of it! It was supposed to–'

'_Bellatrix. I. Know. That.'_

Bellatrix shuddered. It was an uncanny idea, to have another person living inside her, feeling what she felt–

'_And hearing what you think_.'

She blushed.

'_So, why, then, am I inside you and not… that creature you were planning on feeding me?'_

'I don't know, my Lord. I'm so tired…'

'_Stop complaining, Bella. You can sleep when you've fixed this. Let me think_.'

She fell silent and tried to focus on her breathing like she had when she first learned occlemency.

'_The situation is much improved when you are quiet_,' the Dark Lord remarked. _' Now, not to second-guess your intelligence,_ _Bella,' _he said that in a voice that made it clear that was exactly what he was doing,_ 'but… you _did_ make sure that the drunk was alive when you started, didn't you?_'

Bellatrix's stomach sank.

'_As I thought. Care to check his pulse, Bella? As I haven't had a chance to feed off him, he should still be alive._'

She dragged herself over to his sprawling form and pressed her fingers to the hollow of his throat, searching for a pulse. But she already knew what she was going to find.

'_I would punish you,_' the Dark Lord's voice said with a touch of mirth, '_but I can't think of a way to do it that wouldn't hurt me as well. You'll be lucky, then, until you do the spell again, properly_.'

'Yes, my Lord.' She hesitated, and then asked the question that was bothering her. 'Can you–'

'_Move your limbs?'_

'Yes, exactly.'

'_I _know_ yes, Bella. How long will it take you to learn that I can read your thoughts?'_

'I apologize, my Lord.'

'_As to your question… well, let's find out, shall we? Hold out your arm.'_

Bellatrix did as she was told, stretching one arm in front of her, not sure what the Dark Lord was planning.

Her hand twitched involuntarily, and she caught her breath.

'So you can–'

'_Wait_.'

Her elbow was bending, her hand moving inwards.

'What are you doing?' This was frightening, and she couldn't help but remember Wormtail, strangled by his silver hand, a gift from the Dark Lord. 'Please, stop!'

'_Are you giving me an order, Bella?_'

'No! I just–'

She was actively trying to stop her hand moving now. It was frightening, seeing a part of her that she usually had control over hovering before her, as she tried with all her might to lower it.

'_Bella… if you don't stop struggling, I _will_ hurt you. Now relax_.'

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to let him move her arm. Her hand drifted, against her will, to her own face, fingers lightly brushing her cheek. Her heartbeat came a little faster, and the Dark Lord laughed softly.

'_Oh, this will be interesting. This will be very interesting indeed._'

The hand fell from her face to her throat, running a fingertip along the hollow, tracing the sharp line of her collarbone, and finally settling on the swell of her breast.

Bellatrix inhaled sharply, and the Dark Lord chuckled.

'_Enjoying it, Bella? Don't lie_.'

She didn't have to answer, he couldn't have helped but hear what she was thinking.

'_Perhaps_,' he said thoughtfully, as her hand, controlled by him, lightly caressed the top of her breast, '_this… being inside your body business won't be all bad_.'


	4. Chapter 4

"_I do wish you had chosen a nicer flat_," the Dark Lord murmured. Bellatrix's right hand moved to rest on her belly.

"I apologize, my Lord," Bellatrix responded, using her left hand to draw feather light circles on her right wrist.

There was a unity to sharing a body. For the first time in so many years, Bellatrix felt whole. She was elated, lightheaded with the experience of the Dark Lord being a _part_ of her.

"_Do you ever think about anything else, Bella_?" His voice was faintly amused, and Bellatrix reddened.

"I apologize," she repeated.

"_Don't_," he said. "_It's quite the insight into what makes you… tick_."

She sighed and sank onto the narrow bed, breath speeding up.

"_What do you think you're doing_?"

She leapt back up. "Nothing."

"_Would you take such liberties if we were in separate bodies_?"

Dropping her eyes, bowing her head, Bellatrix stood still and modest, keeping her breath steady and her mind blank. "No, my Lord."

"_Is there a mirror in this pigsty, Bella_?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"_Well, then?_"

She walked slowly into the wash-room and looked at her reflection in the spotted glass.

"_Hm… very pretty_."

She shut her eyes, and then snapped them back open when the Dark Lord snarled quietly.

"_Don't do that_."

He was forcing her hand to move again, sliding up her corseted waist, stroking her belly, and rising to cup her breast.

She moaned quietly. The Dark Lord was forcing her to stare straight ahead into the mirror, eyes wide open as he gently squeezed her with her own hand.

"_Enjoying_?"

"I enjoy any time spent in your company, my Lord."

"_Bellatrix. Firstly, I can hear your thoughts, even when you employ occlemency. Secondly, I can also feel everything your body is doing… and it is a most curious sensation._"

Her knees weakened, and it was only the Dark Lord grasping the doorframe that stopped her from collapsing to the ground.

"My Lord…"

"_And now I ask again… are you enjoying this?_"

"Yes," she breathed.

"_Good_."

And then, he drew her hand away and rested against the edge of the sink. She gasped in protest, but the Dark Lord ignored her.

"_Food_," he said. "_Food, then sleep, then work_." Bellatrix's lips curled into his sneer. "_Then play. If you do well_."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: Thank you infinitely for your comments and ideas. No telling how much longer this is going to go on, but at least I think I have some idea where it's going from here.

)O(

The Dark Lord had to guide her shaking hand to her mouth. Bellatrix was so exhausted and so hungry that the couldn't keep it steady, and although presumably the Dark Lord was feeling the hunger every bit as much as she was, he had the self-control to work her limbs.

Her half-starved body protested as he forced a lump of bread down her throat, and she gagged, coughed, and spat out a mouthful onto the bar in front of her.

"_That is quite disgusting_," the Dark Lord told her. "_You need food. Nothing will be accomplished if you are delirious_."

"Yes, my Lord," she said, and took another, smaller bite.

"_And another thing_," his voice was impatient, and Bellatrix stopped chewing to listen better.

"_Look at the couple sitting at the other end of the bar_."

Bellatrix leaned over to peer at them. A redheaded man and a woman with untamed brown hair were looking at her. As soon as Bellatrix met their eyes, the man looked away. The woman, however, called, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Bellatrix looked away in disgust. Dirty muggles as far as she could tell, there was nothing remarkable about them.

"_What do you see, Bella_?"

She swallowed. "I see two people who have no more right to this world than a pair of weasels."

"_Very good, Bella. Now, since you are so _very_ intelligent… what do _they _see_?"

"I don't know. The inside of a pub, I suppose."

"_Wrong_," he said. "_What they see is a woman who looks like she hasn't slept in a week sitting at a bar, spitting out half-chewed bread and talking to herself. And don't you think that might not be the best way of staying out of the public eye_?"

"But–"

"_Mouth _shut_, Bellatrix._"

_Yes, my Lord._

"_Much better, Bellatrix."_

She took another bite of the bread. She was starting to feel the hunger again, her starving belly gnawing at itself. Before long, she had devoured the entire basket of rolls that she had requested.

"_Stop eating before you make yourself ill_," the Dark Lord told her. Bellatrix stopped immediately and clasped her hands on the table in front of her.

"_You're probably going to vomit all that back up by the time you get back to the flat,"_ he added,

_I am sorry, my Lord._

"_And once we are back there…"_

_Yes, my Lord?_

"_Do try to control yourself, Bellatrix! If I have to watch one more of your twisted fantasies, I will vomit your food back up for you, and I won't wait until you're back at the flat."_

_I'm sorry, my Lord._

"_That counts as a twisted fantasy, Bella."_

_I'm sorry, my Lord._

"_As I was saying, Bella, once we are back at the flat, you are going to show me the spell, and I am going to reverse the damage you have done."_

_But first couldn't we–_

"No_, Bellatrix."_

_As you say, of course, my Lord._

She dropped a galleon on the bar and hurried out.

"Oy!" the bartender called, staring at the large gold coin. The couple who had been staring at Bellatrix before signaled him over.

"You looking for the woman who was sitting here before?" asked the man.

"Yeah." The bartender scowled at the coin. "She didn't pay."

"I wouldn't go after her," said the woman. "Crazy woman was talking to herself."

"But she didn't pay!"

"I'll get it," the woman said, digging into her purse. "I think I know her. How much?"

"Oh, one pound sixpence. Do you want the coin? It's not any kind of money I've ever seen before, but…"

He trailed off and dropped the coin on the table with a shrug.

The couple exchanged stunned glances.

"Hermione, is that…" the man started, but the woman cut him off with a sharp look. She dropped a handful of coins on the table.

"Keep the change," she said. "Come on, Ron."

The bartender watched as the couple hurried out.

"Odd sorts here tonight," he muttered, and promptly forgot the whole affair.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Notes: I realized the absurdity of the no eating/no sleeping thing after fasting for three days. Beware, sex ahead (Not too explicit. I only warn in case some eight-year-old is reading this). Please review.

)O(

"_Ah,"_ the Dark Lord murmured, running one of Bellatrix's fingers down the page of a spell book. "_You're absolutely sure that this is the spell you were using?"_

"Positive, my Lord."

"_And you used this date here, on the facing page, yes?"_

"Yes…"

"_Bellatrix?"_

"Yes, my Lord?"

"_Can you read?"_

"Yes, my Lord…" she said uncertainly. "Why…"

"_If you can read,_" he asked icily, "_Then perhaps you can explain how, after nineteen years spent on this spell… you managed to read, 'caster should not eat or sleep for seven_ hours_ before performing the spell,' as 'caster should not eat or sleep for seven _days_?_"

Bellatrix gaped. How could she have been so _stupid_? What was the matter with her?

"_What indeed,"_

"I have no excuse, my Lord. It was pure stupidity, failure of the worst kind. I can only beg mercy."

"_Idiot._"

"It would only be right to punish–"

"_Bella, what did I say about twisted fantasies?_"

"Of course. I am sorry, my Lord."

"_And well you should be. If you had been focused on reading the instructions for casting the spell rather than nursing your overactive libido for the past nineteen years, I would have my own body instead of having to live inside you._"

"Is there any way to reverse it, my Lord?"

"_Let me see…_" he used Bellatrix's hands to page through the book. "_It appears that the simplest way would be… for you to make a horcrux, put my soul into it, then do the spell again._"

"If that is what you wish, my Lord."

"_Ah, now, there's the problem, Bella._"

"What is, my Lord?"

"_I don't think that is what I wish. I'm not quite sure I trust you with that much complicated spell-work. I have much to lose if you fail, and very little to gain. Any gambler can tell you that those are not odds one wants to play._"

"Well then, what do you plan to–"

"_Potter._"

Bellatrix sighed. She had known from the start that this would come up eventually. The Dark Lord wanted Potter dead, and nineteen years in a horcrux hadn't changed that any more than fourteen years haunting Albania had. She had so hoped that this time it would be different, that this time, the Dark Lord would let Potter go. Had he not learned his lesson? Twice he had _died_ because of the Potter boy. What more convincing did he need that he should stay away from him?

In her flash of irritation, she had thought all that without employing occlumency first.

"_You forget your place, Bellatrix!_"

"I think only of your safety, my Lord!"

"_I did not ask for your opinion, and I do not want your consideration. It is not for you to tell me that I am not learning. Once the Potter boy is dead, I will waste no time finding a different way to separate our souls, and once I have my own body, then there will be Hell to pay, my Bellatrix._"

She took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "What you will, my Lord. If you choose to go after Potter, then I cannot protest."

"_Quite right, my Bellatrix. Quite right._"

"So, my Lord, what do you plan on doing?"

"_Find Potter. Kill him. Then find the way to give my soul form. Perhaps, if you do especially well, we can do a little something to celebrate first…_"

He rubbed Bellatrix's tongue around her lips, and she felt a thrill of anticipation.

"_You'll be sorry to see it go, won't you?_" he hissed in her mind. "_You're enjoying having me… inside you, aren't you? It makes you feel whole, doesn't it? Doesn't it, Bella?_"

"I feel honoured, as should any Death Eater who–"

"_Don't make me laugh, Bella. Do you think you can trick me like that? This isn't about honour. You want me. I know every lascivious thought buried in that sick, sick mind of yours, Bella. So you can stop pretending. I know that having my soul inside your body arouses you. The only thing I want to know is… does it make you feel _whole?"

She closed her eyes and took deep, steady breaths. "I cannot answer that, my Lord."

"_Come now, Bella. We are alone. There is no one to hear your answer but me. What are you ashamed of? How can you be reluctant to answer my question when you know I've seen each libidinous fantasy that flits through your mind?_"

"I–"

"_Just answer me, Bella. Tell me, do I make you feel whole?_"

She didn't answer. She couldn't.

After a moment, she heard the Dark Lord sigh.

"_If that's the way you want it, then. Potter. About finding Potter."_

"Yes. Where do you suppose he is?"

"_I would wager_," the Dark Lord said with some amusement, "_that the half-blood is living in _your_ house, my Bellatrix. In Grimmauld Place._"

Bellatrix snarled low in her throat at the idea. That brat, friend of Mudbloods and blood-traitors, living in the house that should be hers!

"Will we go for him tonight, my Lord?"

"_I think not, Bellatrix. You need sleep. Tomorrow night, I think, would be better. You'll have time to rest, and I can decide upon the details. And don't forget, Bella, once Potter is finally dead, thon I will be out of your body faster than you can say '_please, my Lord'._ The only reason that I am postponing it at all is that, if I haven't, as you noticed, learned my lesson about the Potter brat, I have at least learned about the danger of elaborate plans. This time, I'm walking straight in and killing him. No planning, no tricks. No time for his friends to save him. Just him, us, and one well-aimed killing curse."_

"That sounds wise, my Lord."

"_Quite. Go to bed, Bella."_

She shut the book and set about undressing. The Dark Lord sighed as Bellatrix stripped off the last of her clothing and lay down on the bed.

"My Lord… are we going to… are we?"

"_Aren't you a little sleepy for that, my Bellatrix?_"

"Not too sleepy for you, my Lord."

"_Hmm…_" her hand, controlled by him, slid lightly over her breasts, her stomach, and finally settled between her legs. "_I must admit, I am most curious. I suppose…_" Bellatrix's fingers began to work at the sensitive flesh, "_that we could postpone sleep… just a little…_"

"My Lord… ah, my Lord…"

"_Liked that, did you, Bella? Liked not being able to tell if you were getting off or I was. Liked literally being one with your lover. Oh, yes, you _did_ like it. The pleasure given corresponds to the pleasure taken. The way it should be, yes?"_

"Yes, my Lord."

"_Bella?_"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"_Will you tell me now whether I make you feel whole?_"

"What do you want me to say, my Lord?"

"_The _truth_, Bella. I want the truth._"

"Then I could not say, my Lord."

He sighed, and stroked her hair with her hand. _"I expected as much, but still. Pity. If you had told me, maybe I would have told you something that you wanted to know._"


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: If you don't think I explain the philosophy part clearly enough, please let me know and I'll try to explain it better. Thank you, as always, for your comments.

)O(

"Well, I say that she's a threat to secrecy at the very least," Hermione said stubbornly. "Something should be done."

"That may be so," Harry told her, 'but that's not for aurors to be concerned about. So why are you telling me?"

"Hermione's convinced that she knows her from somewhere," Ron said.

"I _do_ know her!" insisted Hermione. "I'm positive I've seen her before."

"No, you haven't," Ron contradicted. "You're imagining things. I didn't recognize her at all."

"Well, if Hermione thinks–" Ginny began, but Ron cut her off.

"That woman is just a witch who went out, got drunk, and put down the wrong coin. You've never seen her before, and neither have any of the rest of us. I'd bet my life on it."

.

"_It's very simple_," the Dark Lord said. "_Wait until he comes out. Take out the wand, and kill him. There will be no torture, no hesitation, and absolutely no speaking to him. Am I perfectly clear?_"

"Yes, my Lord."

"_This is our stop. Mind the gap, Bella_."

Bellatrix pushed past the crush of commuters onto the platform.

"Remind me, my Lord," she said softly, "why we cannot just apparate?"

"_Because, Bella, if Potter saw you appear out of nowhere outside his house –"_

"_My_ house, my Lord."

"_Quite, Bella. If Potter saw you appear out of nowhere outside your house, in which he is living, he might be inclined to be a little more careful when coming outside. We don't want to give him any warning._"

"As you say, my Lord."

"_And Bella, I believe I have told you not to speak aloud in public places_."

_I am sorry, my Lord._

If Grimmauld Place had changed since Bellatrix had been there last, she could not see how. The houses – Bellatrix, being a Black, could see number twelve – were just as she remembered. Across the street from number twelve was a bus stop. Bellatrix sat at it and laid her wand across her knees, waiting for Harry Potter to leave his house.

_May I speak aloud now, my Lord_?

"_If you want, Bella_."

"Thank you, my Lord. What if Potter doesn't come out?"

"_He will have to eventually. We wait._"

"Won't he notice me sitting here?"

"_And do what? If he comes out, kill him. If one of the others comes out, get on the next bus. Then we'll come back another day._"

"Yes, my Lord."

"_Well, it seems we have some time to ourselves. So, Bella… talk to me._"

"About what, my Lord?"

"_Anything. Just something to pass the time._"

"I don't know what to say, my Lord."

"_Anything, Bellatrix. I merely want you to talk to me. It is awkward and difficult for us to sit in silence._" When Bellatrix did not respond, he added,_ "Besides, if I don't distract you, you are wont to lapse into fantasy again, and that might just push me over the edge. Your appetite seems to be quite insatiable."_

"What should I talk about?"

"_You might answer my question of last night._"

"I do not know what you mean by it, my Lord. Why do you keep asking me?"

There was a silence and then the Dark Lord said, "_Bella, are you familiar with the works of Plato?_"

"Not at all, he was a muggle, wasn't he?"

"_If a muggle, he was a very intelligent one. I suspect that, if he was not a wizard, he had studied magic in some respect. But that is not important."_

"How can you say that blood is not important, my Lord?"

"_Because it does not detract from the relevance of his theory."_

"What was his theory, then, my Lord?"

"_His theory_," the Dark Lord said, "_was that originally, everyone had two souls in their body. Most often there was a female half and a male half, although sometimes there were two male or two female parts. The people were whole. But the gods – or some higher power – thought that these creatures were too happy. So it sought to take away the sense of whole-ness that was making them happy. It split them into two different parts and put one of these into a different body. According to Plato, happiness could only be achieved if one soul found the other, and sought to come as close as possible to that state of having two souls in one body."_

"My Lord… you don't think…"

"Ron, look, that's her!"

Bellatrix's head snapped up to look at the door of number twelve. Harry Potter was standing there, and so was the couple from the bar and a petite woman with bright red hair. Harry was staring at her, a look of dawning recognition in his eyes, and Bellatrix dropped her head hurriedly.

_My Lord, it's Potter! And those people from the bar are with him!_

"_So I see, Bella."_

_Should I attack now?_

"_No, Bella."_

_Why not?_

"_Wait until he comes closer. You might miss at this range!"_

_My Lord, I think he recognized–_

"Expelliarmus!"

Bellatrix's wand flew from her hand.

The Dark Lord had hesitated.

All was lost.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Notes: Sorry for the gap between these two chapters. I've had wicked writer's block (yeah, okay, it maybe doesn't seem like it's been long enough to qualify as writer's block. Trust me. When all you do is write all day, this is shameful). I'm not quite happy with this chapter, but… oh well.

)O(

_My Lord, what have you done! I can't fight them without my wand!_

"_I know that, Bellatrix."_

_Well then what–_

"Well, if it isn't Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry Potter growled, advancing. Bellatrix shrank inadvertently backwards. The look or wrath on his face was terrible.

_My Lord, do you _want_ us killed?_

"_Not _perse_, Bella."_

"God, you make me sick," Potter snarled. "What do we have to do to get rid of you?"

Despite herself, Bellatrix was terrified. She was defenceless, and Potter had a wand. And there was so very much to lose if he killed her. If he killed her, it would be the Dark Lord who got the spell. He would die, and she would be left alive. And she didn't think she could stand that.

_Please, my Lord, tell me what to do! Oh God, I'm so afraid!_

"_Trust me, Bella. I trust you."_

"You know," Potter said, clutching his scar with one hand, and holding his wand level with Bellatrix's heart with the other, "I always thought that aurors should capture, not kill. But I was wrong."

_My Lord! My Lord, he's going to kill–_

"Avada Kedavra!"

Bellatrix's body was thrown back against the bench with the force of the spell. Her eyes rolled back in her head, so all she could see was darkness and explosions of stars from her head cracking against the bench. She felt something tugging at her core, and she knew the Dark Lord's soul was being pulled away from her.

_No!_ she tried to say, but she had no control over her body. _Please, not the Dark Lord! For God's sake, take me instead! Let the Dark Lord keep my body, I'll die for him, but please don't make me lose him again!_

She prayed. She petitioned the God she had defied all her life, and begged for His mercy.

_Please! Please, let me die, not the Dark Lord! Not him!_ If she could have cried, she would have. _Don't take him!_ And she forced herself to tell God, in the plain words she had never even managed to say to herself, _I love him._

A shock like electricity travelled through Bellatrix, and there was a sense of terrible _nothingness_ when his soul split from her body.

She was consumed with fury like nothing she had felt before. Once again the Dark Lord had been torn from her, and this time, there was nothing she could do. This time he was gone for good.

With a scream of rage, she snatched her wand from the ground and started for Harry, ready to battle to the death, ready to make him pay. Stunning spells caught his friends, she would deal with them later. It was only then that she registered what was happening to Harry Potter.

He was writhing on the grass. His scar an open wound, and there was a strange, ghostly figure hovering beside him.

Bellatrix watched, dumbfounded, as Harry Potter stopped screaming, stopped struggling, and eventually, lay still, light gone from his eyes. All the while, the ghost was taking on more and more solid form. In fact – Bellatrix hardly dared to believe it – it was beginning to look like…

"My Lord!" she cried, and flung herself into his arms.

.

A/N: I promise I'll explain what the hell happened there in the next chapter. Reviewers will have their stories reviewed.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Notes: Okay, I know the last chapter sucked. Probably also made no sense. Sorry, I just needed to get it out. This one is better, I swear (although rich in retroactive exposition). And… caralina100, you got it! I hope my explanation makes sense.

So, this is the last chapter. Thank you so much for sticking with it this long! My love to readers, you are the best!

)O(

"How did this happen?" Bellatrix sobbed. "_What_ happened?"

"Exactly what I planned, my Bella," the Dark Lord said calmly. "Please stand up straight."

"But… but how…"

"Let me explain, Bellatrix," he said. "Oh, but you might want to tie up those three. We don't need them to interrupt." He gestured at the Mudblood and the two Weasleys. Bellatrix flicked her wand at them, and ropes flew out, binding them.

"You remember, Bella, what happened when I tried to kill Potter that first time?"

"The spell rebounded, my Lord."

"Exactly. Do you happen to remember why?"

"No."

"Then let me remind you." He stepped back and toed Potter's lifeless body with vague amusement. "He was protected by his mother's love for him. She died for him, if you recall."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now, let us examine what happened here. My soul was attached tenuously to your body. When someone is killed, their soul is detaches from their body. A killing curse kills only one person. Can you remember all that, Bellatrix?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"So, Potter's killing curse, although aimed at you, broke my soul off your body instead, because it is anchored so weakly. Following, Bella?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"_But_, and this is the part I feared would go wrong, you were willing to die for me. I believe your words were _'For God's sake, take me instead_'. And, as Potter's Mudblood mother demonstrated so admirably, that protected me."

"What?"

"My soul was not torn off you. The spell rebounded. And hit Mr. Potter here." He kicked Potter over onto his stomach. "Just as I knew it would."

"But your soul _did_ leave me! I felt it!"

"Yes. I left your body, so that I could latch onto Potter. Get his soul out, and into me."

"I don't understand."

He sighed. "Do you happen to remember how you were planning to give my soul form?"

"Yes… your soul was pulled out of the horcrux and latched onto the nearest soul, pulled the life-force out, and fed on it to obtain physical form."

"Well done, Bella. Now, going through what happened again… Harry's spell rebounded on him because you were willing to sacrifice yourself, thus killing him, and I left your body so that I could take his soul and feed on it – for want of a better word – so that I was given physical form."

"But…" Bellatrix dashed tears from her eyes and stared at him in wonder. "But surely those are just the sort of odds you said not to gamble! We had everything to lose, and–"

"And everything to gain, my Bella," he said lightly. "Look. Potter is dead. His friends are at our mercy. I no longer have to share your body. You are not dead. What more would you want?"

"But it could have gone so wrong! We could have lost everything!"

"So we could have, my Bella. But we didn't. I told you I trusted you."

"But, my Lord–"

"Bella, let it be enough that it worked. Now, dear Bellatrix, shall we kill these three, or torture them?" He gestured at the Mudblood and the two Weasleys.

"Do you really have to ask?" Bellatrix pointed her wand at the Mudblood. "_Crucio_."

She screamed, her tightly tied body buckling. Bellatrix smiled, enjoying the pain she was causing. But she couldn't help thinking how much better the Dark Lord would look under her spell than the Mudblood…

"Beautiful, my Bella," the Dark Lord said, gently stroking Bellatrix's shoulder. "You are beautiful when you torture them."

She made a soft moaning sound in her throat and lifted her wand. "Can we go home, my Lord?"

"No more torture, Bella?"

"Not with these people." She smiled mischievously. "Now that you have your own body–"

"Good God, Bella, you're doing it again! I may not be inside your body, but I am still a legilimens!"

"Oh, don't tell me you don't want to?" Bellatrix was high on success, and she was more daring than was perhaps wise.

"That _would_ be a lie," he conceded. With three quick flicks of his wand, the Mudblood and the Weasleys went still, their eyes wide and lifeless. He offered his arm in a gesture of mock-formality, and Bellatrix took it.

They apparated back to the flat, and the Dark Lord set about undressing Bellatrix.

"My Lord?" she said thoughtfully, shimmying out of her dress.

"Yes, Bella?" He ran his tongue over her collarbone.

"Why did not the curse kill me?"

He pulled back and cocked his head, an ironic smile curling across his face.

"Dual protection, I believe, is the term," he said, and went back to removing Bellatrix's clothes.

"What?" She stopped moving, and looked at him with confusion.

"You protected me, I protected you. Help me with these corset strings, would you, Bella?"

"No," she said. She put her hand over his. "Explain–"

"Oh, for God's sake are you going to make me spell it out for you?" He put his hands on either side of her face and stared at her. There was exasperation in his dark, crimson-cast eyes, but amusement and an emotion she couldn't name.

"Bellatrix," he said, very slowly and clearly, "you didn't die, because I would die for you. You didn't die because I love you."

She stared at him.

"Do you remember what I said about Plato?"

"Yes…"

"Do you have an answer? Do I make you whole, my Bella? Am I the other part of your soul, do you think?"

"Yes, my Lord," she managed. "I think so."

He smiled.

"Well," he said, going back to her corset strings, "I thought I should mention that you are the other part of me. Now help me with this damn corset."

)O(

_Fin_


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